


wool to brave the seasons

by squash1



Series: vignette collections [2]
Category: Dreamer Trilogy - Maggie Stiefvater, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish Loves Ronan Lynch, Canon Related, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish, and that's all I have to say, but doesn't revolve around any canon plot, this is sort of trilogy-adjacent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squash1/pseuds/squash1
Summary: “You’rekidding.”Adam doesn’t look up. He knows there’s a big fat frown on Ronan’s face from his scathing tone alone. Confrontation is not on his to-do list today.Maybe taking care of himself isn’t either, which explains his boyfriend’s rather vocal upset. There’s a bowl of pasta on the far left corner of his desk, untouched and cold from when Adam set it aside after accepting it from Ronan earlier in the day, along with a kiss and aSee you later!~More vignettes.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: vignette collections [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060904
Comments: 23
Kudos: 97





	1. okay

**Author's Note:**

> So… I’m back? With a series of moments set in an unspecified trilogy-adjacent timeline, written for no other reason but my own comfort. Hurt/comfort? Fluff as well. Mostly pynch (probably).
> 
> A lot of these will probably ignore canon for the sake of feelings (Adam answer your damn texts. Ronan where the fuck do you think you’re going). I’m literally just here because I’m having a rough time right now and I wanna write about my favourite characters loving and being there for each other.
> 
> Also, obligatory tswift title. Folklore for evermore huh.

“You’re _kidding_.”

Adam doesn’t look up. He knows there’s a big fat frown on Ronan’s face from his scathing tone alone. Confrontation is _not_ on his to-do list today.

Maybe taking care of himself isn’t either, which explains his boyfriend’s rather vocal upset. There’s a bowl of pasta on the far left corner of his desk, untouched and cold from when Adam set it aside after accepting it from Ronan earlier in the day, along with a kiss and a _See you later!_

And maybe Adam feels a tiny bit guilty for refusing Ronan’s attempts at looking after him. Maybe he knows that Ronan does it out of nothing but genuine love and care for him, but it’s hard to accept and even harder to allow himself to lean into it. Sure, he deserves to be doted on sometimes, enjoys the different ways Ronan comes up with to pamper him when he’s working from home. It’s just that it’s the last semester of his undergrad, papers and project deadlines are looming in the not-so-distant future and Adam is stressed about all of them, already planning out schedules and putting in orders for library books.

Plus, there’s a dull ache in one of his molars and sometimes it gets worse when his jaw grinds on a particular spot whilst chewing and Adam does not have time or the nerve to go to the dentist right now. His dentist is covered by his insurance, but he’s scary and Adam doesn’t like asking for anesthetic because _How painful could it possibly be?_ (The answer is always _Very._ And the little stress ball they shove into his hands doesn’t help either).

It really is the little things, and everything feels like it’s falling apart.

Ronan made him take time off last night, bundling the both of them up in blankets on the sofa and channel-surfing mindlessly from one nature documentary to another. Adam remembers barely anything, something about poisonous frogs and wild buffalos in Poland, brain too preoccupied with going through his to-do list whilst Ronan squeezed him closer to his chest. He fell asleep eventually, after crying into Ronan’s t-shirt when his phone went off with an incoming e-mail from his Biochem professor.

And now he’s not eating, making matters even more frustrating for Ronan, who really is just trying his best at keeping Adam afloat whilst staying on top of household chores and his dream projects with Hennessy.

Eventually, Adam does swivel around in his desk chair to face Ronan. He looks tired, Adam thinks, underneath the angry. He is used to seeing Ronan angry, it doesn’t faze him anymore and he knows that he’s rarely angry at Adam but more at the circumstances. Seeing him this tired is wholly different, and it’s concerning.

“I’m sorry,” Adam says, reaching his arms out. Ronan sighs and stomps over to him – shoes in the house, as always, no matter how many times Adam asks him to leave them by the front door – and plops himself square across Adams lap.

“Dumbass,” he says, swatting at Adam’s neck. “Why didn’t you eat?”

“No appetite.”

And it’s true. The stress and anxiety are eating away at his insides, on days like this there is no room left for pasta.

“You should take a break. A proper one. For a week or two,” Ronan proclaims, and Adam’s stomach tightens at his suggestion. “It’s already great that you’ve cut your hours at the shop, but that just gives your ultra megamind brain more time to worry about ivy league shit.”

“Isn’t that a Pixar movie?”

“What?”

“Megamind –,” Adam starts, but Ronan cuts him off with a bright laugh, then a kiss.

It’s quick, chaste in a way that eases something in Adam’s gut.

“Actually, I think it’s Dreamworks. But yeah,” Ronan concedes. He’s leaning back and Adam tightens his arms around him, doesn’t want him to fall. When he sits back up, he’s got the bowl of pasta in his hands and Adam knows what dawns on him. They’ve played this game before, albeit in a less depressing situation.

“Open up, baby,” Ronan coos, jabbing a fork load of rigatoni in his face. Adam rolls his eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna taste it first?”

“What are you being a bitch for, I made this.”

One of the things Adam loves so much about Ronan is that he somehow, by magic or some strange intuition of his, always knows what to say to make Adam laugh. No matter the situation, there’s always some dirty joke, some dramatic monologue, some sardonic comment on the tip of his tongue, coaxing a giggle out of Adam at the very least.

This is one of those comments that have Adam in stitches. And yeah, maybe it’s the exhaustion or the low blood sugar levels that make him susceptible to this kind of humour, but Adam laughs at Ronan’s antics either way.

“I’m serious,” Ronan says, clearly amused as well. “Eat.”

So Adam does. Ronan keeps cooing and teasing him throughout, feeding him bite by bite and stealing some for himself in the interim. It’s domestic in a way Adam loves, like a little pocket of comfort in a time dictated by nothing but worry and work, work, work. Once again, Adam is reminded that only Ronan can make him feel this way, because Ronan is all of the things he’s ever sought after. Warmth, love, home.

The cold noodles feel dull and heavy in Adam’s stomach after a while and his tooth starts hurting a bit, so he lays his head to rest on Ronan’s shoulder.

“I think I’m done for the day,” he mumbles. The worn jersey of Ronan’s shirt feels soft on his face, so he burrows his nose deeper.

“All right, champ,” Ronan says, softly now. He heaves himself up and out of Adam’s lap, but stays close to run his fingers through his hair. “Shower?”

Adam agrees. He makes sure to save the progress on his research paper, shuts his laptop, and dares to hope that maybe Ronan will jump in the shower with him, to hold and kiss him and maybe shampoo his hair.

Maybe he’s not in a good place right now, maybe self-inflicted pressure is taking over his life again, maybe sometimes things are shit and he just needs to be totally honest with his therapist during their next session and actually talk about what’s on his mind. He definitely needs to eat regularly and allow himself to relax. Maybe those are tasks for his daily to-do list.

Adam knows he will be okay eventually. The stress will cease, he will finish his projects, ace his exams and pass his classes. He’ll ask for anesthetic at the dentist and get a filling. And it won’t hurt. He’ll graduate, and Ronan will be there for him. Ronan will even be there for him should he not meet any of his goals within the set time frame.

Ronan will always be there, and Adam will be there too.


	2. saturday, pt. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t think I’m up for that today.”
> 
> Adam looks at him then, softly. And, God, Ronan is so fond of him.
> 
> “Okay,” he says, kisses him once, and then a second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [saturday, pt. i](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17853176/chapters/42192860#workskin)
> 
> i’ve come to realise that this is darker than the previous collection, but i promise there will be plenty glimpses of light throughout.
> 
> **also, just as a disclaimer** : i’m not an expert on anything mental health related, i’m just writing from my own experiences. i’m also not mentioning any specific terms for diagnoses because I don’t want to misrepresent a condition i don’t know anything about. i’m writing this purely for comfort.
> 
> that being said, if you are experiencing similar things as adam or ronan, please talk to someone or look up resources to help you. there are often free counselling resources that can then help you get help. please take care of yourself. ily and be safe <3

Ronan is lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. In a couple of minutes, he’s probably gonna roll over again and snuggle up to Adam, kiss his cheek, nuzzle his jawline. Breathe against his skin, breath him in, tangle their legs together again. For now, he’s just looking.

The paint on the ceiling is chipping a little, though he’s not sure why. There’s a crack in the wall behind their bed, too, he knows, so maybe that’s something to do with it. It wouldn’t surprise him, not in an apartment building as old as theirs.

Saturdays are weird. Adam has cut his hours at the auto shop so he’s not working weekends anymore, which gives him more time to lie in bed with Ronan in the morning. He works too much, Ronan has told him time and time again. He can feel the stress chipping away at Adam as the weeks go on. It’s March now, not that long until graduation, and Ronan has just been as supportive as he can whilst Adam works himself into the ground for his stupid degree.

Except it’s not stupid, he knows it isn’t. It’s important to Adam, it’s everything he’s always wanted, so Ronan isn’t gonna complain. They’re together now, most nights as well unless he’s off working on dreamstuff with Hennessy or Adam’s pulling an all-nighter.

Sometimes, though, Ronan still feels this _thing_ gnaw at his insides. Or maybe it’s more of a _nothing_ , he can’t really decide. Sometimes it overcomes him randomly in the afternoon, most times it’s just there when he wakes up. He doesn’t wanna put a name on it, doesn’t want to give it enough power to become a label. Even though that might help, it’s scary. Ronan admires the way Adam is steadily working through his issues, but looking inward scares him still.

As if he sensed Ronan overthinking, Adam suddenly stirs next to him. A groan follows, along with the unintelligible mumbling Ronan has come to understand as either _too early_ or _not enough physical contact_. Maybe it’s both.

Either way, Adam seems placated when Ronan rolls onto his side to face him, throwing a leg over his boyfriend’s and tugging him close.

Adam sighs, breath hot against Ronan’s collarbone. Dry lips press against his throat, and there’s not much energy in the kiss but it’s thrilling still.

Then, Adam mutters something akin to, “Why are you awake?” and Ronan’s heart skips a beat, maybe two.

“I’m still on Virginia time.”

Adam pinches his flank lightly. “That makes absolutely no sense.”

“But it’s true!” Ronan laughs, softly, nosing at Adam’s mussed hair.

“Literally how…?”

Ronan doesn’t reply, just grunts and folds himself tighter around Adam and they remain just like that for a couple of minutes, tangled up in each other and breathing in each other’s air. For a second, Ronan suspects Adam might have fallen back asleep, but them he feels calloused hands wandering up and down his bare back, feels Adam’s form tightening in a stretch.

“We should go grocery shopping today,” Adam says, probably already working through his to-do list. “Either in the morning or later this afternoon,” he adds, and Ronan feels that _something_ tugging at his insides.

He doesn’t really feel like leaving the bed, but he does want to spend time with Adam.

Grocery shopping is a bit of a _thing_ for them. Ever since they moved in together, their weekly trip to the store has become a fixed slot of shared quality time. It works out great, because Adam can set up a meal plan for the week and keep his genius Harvard brain occupied all morning, asking Ronan for ideas on what to eat the upcoming week.

Sometimes, just like today, Ronan doesn’t want to go. He’ll stay in bed, left with a cuddle and a kiss, and Adam returns with pancake mix, cereals, pestos – food items he trusts himself to throw together in a satisfying, disaster-free manner. Neither of them is the best at feeding themselves at times, Ronan often too lethargic and Adam too anxious to eat. Sometimes, it’s easier to look after each other than to look after themselves.

“I don’t think I’m up for that today.”

Adam looks at him then, softly. And, God, Ronan is so fond of him.

“Okay,” he says, kisses him once, and then a second time.

“Any requests in particular?”

Ronan shakes his head and just leans in for another kiss.

“I’ll come up with something,” Adam says, indulging him.

They kiss for a while, Adam rolling on top of him and Ronan pulling him close, squeezing until Adam’s laughing breathlessly.

After a while, he gets up. Ronan hears the water running in the bathroom, the buzz of Adam’s electric toothbrush (a Christmas gift from Declan. Ronan’s got one too, but doesn’t use it as religiously as Adam does, preferring the way he can overload the bristles of his handheld one with toothpaste and go to town, foam spilling out of his mouth and tongue numb).

It can’t have been long, Ronan’s not too sure how many minutes have passed, but Adam’s back with two cups of coffee and some buttered toast on a plate.

“Breakfast in bed,” he announces, beaming. Ronan is endeared, but doesn’t really feel like sitting up, so he has Adam put down his cup on the nightstand and eats his toast with his side propped up on his elbow.

“Such luxury.”

“I do try.”

Once they’ve emptied their cups, after Adam helped Ronan with his coffee, there are crumbs all over the sheets and Ronan’s mouth feels bitter and acrid. Maybe he’ll brush his teeth later.

“I have a bit of work to do in the afternoon, but we could order takeout tonight and find a new show to watch.”

That doesn’t sound too bad. Any time spent with Adam is comfortable, soothing. Adam is always understanding of his lethargy, his lack of energy to do anything at all. If he later decides to spend the evening in bed, sleeping or staring at the ceiling, Adam will be there with an arm around his shoulders and kisses to his cheeks. He’ll leave Ronan alone, too, if he requests it, sitting in the living room by himself instead.

It's comforting, being allowed to cope in his own way without dreading being berated. Adam never pressures him to stop feeling his awful, wretched feelings. Instead, he’s encouraging and understanding, someone to rely on. Maybe Adam understands because he is just as stubborn as Ronan, maybe he understands because he _knows_ Ronan. Either way, he doesn’t make Ronan feel bad for not feeling well, posing a relief to Ronan’s conscience.

“Text me if you think of anything you want,” Adam says once he has put away their dishes. He pulls a sweater over his head before leaning down for a goodbye kiss.

“Okay,” Ronan replies, and soon enough he finds himself once again just lying, staring and thinking.

This unspoken thing, this cloud surrounding him, sucks. When Ronan lived alone at the Barns, Declan made him write daily agendas for himself, but he usually stuck to the same routine of driving around, dreaming, devouring uninspired meals, and messing about on the grounds. Now, he structures most of his days around Adam’s strict schedule. It helps, kind of, but it also puts him on autopilot for most of the day, filling in the gaps where Adam is working with either dreaming or lazing around.

Now that he doesn’t have to do anything, it’s hard to find things to do at all. Hypothetically, there are a lot of things he could devote his time to, but even this very sentiment is overwhelming.

Later, after they’ve had dinner, Adam pulls Ronan closer, running soothing hands over his arm and the back of his head. Ronan has his ear pressed over Adam’s heart, counting the beats until he loses focus, then starting all over again.

He spends the rest of the night like this, thinking that someday he’s gonna be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one took me ages for some reason, and i'm still a bit unsure about it. for anyone who feels like leaving a comment, it'd be interesting to know how vignettes like this come across. i don't think i have another one like this in me though since my current wip is also a bit angsty. so i think i will be moving on to less heavy themes for this collection.
> 
> anyway, thanks for reading. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated! If you have a prompt for this series, you can hit me up on tumblr @bleachersmp3. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, have a good day!!


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